


Yes, Captain

by fav_littleleaf



Category: Dragon Quest XI
Genre: (I've been reading far too much TMA fanfic), Dirty Talk, Dom!Erik, Dundrasil Never Fell AU, Erik is an arrogant but sexy git, Established Relationship, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, Spanking, Sub!El, Teasing, not enough though, self-indulgent faff mostly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:22:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27431188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fav_littleleaf/pseuds/fav_littleleaf
Summary: Sometimes you gotta show the Prince of Dundrasil he can’t always have what he wants.… Not now, anyway.
Relationships: Camus | Erik/Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 57





	Yes, Captain

**Author's Note:**

> as an ace who generally occupies the sex-averse end of the spectrum, smut is usually weird/difficult for me to write, but I tried this time, and it was actually fun ???
> 
> I wrote this because I got really annoyed by writing enemies to lovers (see: The Serpent's Soul) and wanted to skip to the lovers part, lol. it takes place loosely some time after the end of SS, but you absolutely don't need that context to enjoy this.
> 
> enjoy my first ever completed smut ?!??

Sometimes, on nights like these, El presses three pillows to his back and pretends it’s Erik’s body. 

It hasn’t been that long since he last managed to escape Dundrasil for an evening on the _Salty Scallion_ , but the musty aroma of unvarnished oak and stuttered breaths saturates his brain. He holds another pillow in his arms, squished unceremoniously against his cheek, and tries to chase the ghost of Erik’s breath on his parted lips.

He sighs. It’s no use.

Just when he’s about to engulf himself in a pile of blankets and try to sleep, a dull thud echoes from near the window.

El snaps up at the sound. “Who’s there?”

He sees a figure in the dark, easing towards him with a sure-footed grace. The person doesn’t answer him, just stoops to discard the pillows, careening into El’s bed with a dramatic flair. He starts, scrambling back for a moment before realizing who it must be.

“Hi,” Erik whispers. The sudden warmth of it against his neck and Erik’s arms around him instead of the disappointing flop of pillows makes him shudder.

“What are you _doing_ here?” 

There’s no way this is okay — for Yggdrasil’s sake, Jasper would murder him in a _second_ — but he can’t help the way his pulse jumps at the trace of Erik’s fingers on his waist, at their bodies pressed flush together in a way his imagination can never do justice.

“Can’t I visit my favorite prince when I miss him?” he says huskily, knowing exactly what’s running through El’s head. 

“No!”

But Erik tilts his head for a kiss, and he’s forgotten what this is like: tender, sweet, but also a gateway to the gnawing _ache_ that somehow intensifies when they’re together instead of diminishing. He twists in Erik’s arms, heady with the sensation of his touch. 

El drags his teeth against his bottom lip as they release each other, tugging him in closer by the collar. He presses a thigh between Erik’s legs and dips his head into the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of brine. He misses the sea suddenly — his reckless and irresponsible escapade — and tries to hide a smile.

“What a greeting for being so mad that I'm here.” Erik flashes a vulpine smile. “Be honest. Were you just thinking about me?”

El turns away again with an indignant huff. “You’re a pompous ass.”

“That’s _captain_ to you.” Erik kisses his neck, without a trace of shyness about claiming it as his own, all teeth and tongue and pinpricks of pleasure.

“I am _not_ calling you captain,” he says, but the breathlessness of his delivery dampens the retort.

“Hmm,” Erik murmurs. “I guess I won’t let you come, then.”

El inhales sharply at the matter-of-fact declaration of his intentions, rough and almost crude compared to his fingers tracing circles over El’s stomach and soft lips pressed to his neck. He grinds back against Erik, drawing a gasp from the captain’s lips, breath skittering across his neck in a delicious caress.

“I think you’ll regret that,” El says, and Erik’s answering grin against his shoulder is devilish.

Before he can fight back, Erik is up on his knees in a flash, pushing El onto his back and straddling his hips. The action forces another labored breath out of El, but he’s determined not to satisfy him with a moan.

“Seems like being back in Dundrasil has you forgetting who’s in charge,” Erik whispers, his voice lined with promise and a heat that makes El shiver. He leans down over him, supporting his weight on one elbow and bringing his other hand to finger at the collar of El’s shirt. “The prince just wants people to make decisions for him sometimes. I can’t blame him.”

His smug grin bristles El and turns him on in equal measure. They had never talked about how his favorite way to take a break from the constant barrage of duties was to submit to the pirate captain, let himself be blindfolded, restrained, made to kneel; in the very place his subjects knelt for him. But somehow Erik knew, in the same way he had gotten to know every place on his body that made him buck and groan for more.

It was infuriating.

“What’s the matter, Ellie?” Erik says, as if tracing his exact line of thought. “Too much already?”

El growls and pulls him down flush against his body, answering with a hard bite at his bottom lip. Erik shifts above him, hardness brushing against his hip, and he can’t help making a desperate noise into Erik’s mouth. Erik smiles against his lips and deepens the kiss, hot and fervent; all the months apart from each other topple like cards, all pretenses abandoned.

They kiss messily, all wandering hands and tangled legs, and El is dizzy with the weight of him. When he smiles, Erik smiles back, in between kisses pressed to the taut skin of his collarbones. His fingers drag down El’s body, undoing the buttons of his shirt with an agonizing patience. He squirms under the touch, breaths coming hard as he digs his nails into the nape of Erik’s neck.

When Erik takes a nipple into his mouth, teasing it between his teeth, a filthy moan escapes him. He’s losing the presence of mind too quickly to be ashamed.

Erik comes back up to whisper against his lips, one hand still tweaking his other nipple. “Shh,” he soothes. “We can’t have the whole castle hearing you, can we?”

“I don’t care,” El manages to choke out on the crest of a gasp.

“What would they think,” Erik purrs in his ear, “if they knew the Prince of Dundrasil likes to be tied up and spanked by his kingdom’s worst enemy? If they knew how much you _crave_ it, how much you beg for it?”

A delicious thrill runs through his whole body. There would be scandal, an absolute outcry; but the thought of the whispers in the shadows makes his head hazy with arousal. The twin instincts rope together in a confusing blur.

“Goddess, Erik, I want you to fuck me.”

Erik smiles against his skin and whispers, “Maybe. If you’re good for me.” He lifts up from El, and he feels bereft and cold from the sudden lack of contact. “On your stomach.”

El pouts, tempted to pull him back down by the laces of his goddamn tease of a tunic, but at Erik’s growled “ _Now.”_ he scrambles over without protest. The sheets grumble with him, twisting to mold to his pliant body, and Erik’s hands catch his shirt to slide it off.

The touch on the waistband of his pants makes him twitch in anticipation, and Erik presses a gentle kiss to the small of his back. He lifts his hips obediently for him to tug them off, leaving him naked and on display, achingly conscious that Erik is still fully clothed.

The feeling fades when Erik’s fingers rub softly along his ass, with something that he might have mistaken for a reverent sigh. He knows it wasn’t because the next breath he takes invites a stinging spank to the same skin Erik had just caressed.

“I thought you said you didn’t want people to hear,” El grunts into the sheets.

“Mm. I can’t resist adoring your lovely backside.”

“And hitting is adoring —”

Another sharp smack. He cries out in surprise and belatedly stifles himself into a pillow. Erik leans down over his back, tantalizingly slow, the drag of his clothing against bare skin sending sparks straight through his body.

“Don’t make me gag you.”

His response is automatic, spoken before his brain gives permission. “Yes, captain.”

Erik laughs, a soft thing that’s more breath than sound. “Mmm, that’s what I like to hear.”

El swallows at the affection in his voice. He arches his back without thinking, raising his hips and ass off the bed in a wanton display. “Please, I —”

“What’s that? You want more?”

Erik's fingers trail along his bare skin, teasing at the apex of his thighs, so gently he has to bite into the pillow to not whimper for more, beg for _harder, please_ — 

And then he gets his wish: a sharp _crack_ of the hand striking supple flesh. His body jerks into it, arching off the mattress for a flighty second, and a strangled gasp escapes his throat.

“Mm, you’re such a sensitive little thing.” Erik’s voice drips with sensuality and affection. “I think,” he whispers, dragging his nails up El’s waist, “I want to fuck you,” then up his back and neck, “until you’re begging me to let you come.”

El sucks in a sharp breath. His entire body trembles with anticipation.

Above him, he hears the snap of a bottle that he can only assume is lube. His stomach swoops low and he twists his hands in the sheets. But instead of feeling the warmth of Erik’s hands where he wants them, they push softly between his thighs. His fingers are cool and slick against hot flesh and El whines. The touch isn’t nearly enough, is too enticingly near where he _aches_ for Erik’s hands and mouth.

“Erik,” he says in a broken whisper.

“Yes, darling?”

“Please, I want you inside me.”

“Later,” he says, almost offhandedly. “You know it’s better with a little anticipation.”

At this moment El regrets very much telling him he likes to be teased; a little biting and roughhousing is one thing, but this is torture. He tries to wrestle out of Erik’s grip, but he’s only rewarded with hands reaching for his own, pinning them behind his back. 

“Stay just like that for me,” Erik breathes.

He thrusts his hips forward, dragging his cock between the wet heat of El’s thighs. El whimpers, high and desperate as Erik fucks into him, slowly at first. He tries to buck against him, find some relief for his throbbing cock, but Erik just pins him further into the mattress, muttering an admonishment that he barely registers.

His mind drifts into a hazy, formless cloud of pleasure. He no longer has any control over the little sounds coming out of his mouth, lewd, debauched moans that don't make up for the sweet anguish of being manhandled but not fucked, of being naked and helpless to the captain’s every desire.

“You’re so beautiful like this, so desperate and needy. All mine,” Erik murmurs, only just beginning to sound affected. “Does it feel good, darling?”

 _“Yes.”_ El writhes under him, mouth hanging open, panting and unable to express how much he _wants._ He wants to be stretched open, wants to be held down and fucked until he can't breathe. Not this, this… _caricature_ of sex — Erik taking what he wants for himself and leaving nothing behind.

Erik speeds up to a relentless pace. The slick sounds from his frantic thrusts are too much; El moans to match them, recklessly loud, and claws at Erik’s hands for purchase. He lets out a whine when the captain releases his hands and leans over him, his mouth finding the tender skin of El’s ear.

“Do you want to come?”

He can barely speak for how his throat closes around unfettered tendrils of desire and shame. The answer comes out as a low groan instead. He’s desperate to rut against something, cock untouched and weeping, but he’s pinned by the weight of Erik’s body and the strength of his thrusts.

“Please, Erik, _please_ —”

Just as he reaches to cry out with the pressure, Erik delivers a sharp bite to his neck. El lets out a wild moan and bucks up into him at the same time that Erik comes with a muffled grunt. He feels every limb on fire, pulsing with unsated need, the sticky fluid between his thighs a hot, laughing mockery.

Erik dips his head to the crook of El’s neck, his breaths still coming fast. He twines their fingers together and squeezes his hand. “You’re incredible,” he whispers into El’s ear. “So good for me. You can take it, can’t you?”

Goosebumps raise across his skin, and his breathing softens despite the pounding in his head. He wants to fight back, demand his own pleasure, but has a twin desire to nod, to swallow his affection whole. To never stop feeling the weight of Erik’s approval like a blanket on his skin.

Erik lifts off him and curls up next to him, face to face in the moonlight. He lifts a gentle hand to El’s cheek. “Can you meet me in the gardens tomorrow evening? I’ll have a surprise for you.”

El closes his eyes, willing his stuttering heart to relax. His cock throbs painfully. “Does it involve nice things for me?”

“I think you’ll have to decide that one.”

They both know perfectly well that means _no_. Erik also knows infuriatingly well that’s the way El likes it. “How long are you in Dundrasil?”

“Oh, as long as it takes,” Erik says mysteriously.

El rolls his eyes and pulls him in for a kiss; this one is tender, almost chaste with his determination to not show how affected he is. When he opens his eyes, Erik is looking back at him, expression achingly soft.

“I love you, Ellie,” he whispers.

“Go away,” El mutters, with more affection than he means to show, and pushes Erik off.

He flushes with an unbidden memory: sitting across from Erik on the ship, cheeks hot, muttering “ _I like it when you call me Ellie._ ” Erik had laughed and teased him, but now he saves it for special moments between them.

Erik grins at him, bright like the sun, and draws an unwilling smile out of him when he tangles their fingers together.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then. And El?”

“What now?”

“You’re not allowed to touch yourself.”

El scowls and shoves him off the bed.

**Author's Note:**

> lemme know if you liked cause this lends itself well to multiple installments, obviously :D


End file.
